


The morning after

by britishbossy



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-27 01:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10799259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britishbossy/pseuds/britishbossy
Summary: As the title suggests, this takes place the morning after "Bearable Christmas".





	The morning after

**Author's Note:**

> some Myclara fluff (or what I wish for but am unlikely to get, ever).

The morning after

 

She felt the warmth of his body next to hers before she opened her eyes. They were facing each other, his left arm beneath her head. His eyes were closed and his breath was even and deep. Mycroft was still asleep. Clara looked at his face and couldn't help but smile. He looked so peaceful like this, free from all forms of stress or anger. A part of her almost wished that she could find something to keep him in this state of utter calmness forever, that she would be able to chase away the constant shadows of his life. Glancing at the window she could see the sunlight creeping in through the half drawn curtains, touching the skin of his naked shoulder, making his freckles almost glow. It was Christmas morning.

They had loved each other for the first time only a few hours ago, twice. It had been a while for her but she was convinced that Mycroft Holmes was the best lover she'd ever had. He knew her pleasure points. And he knew exactly when and how to push her buttons. He'd taken her breath away, had made her whimper and cry out his name in ecstasy. The first time had been fierce, it had been about sex itself, about connecting and finally coming together after waiting for so long. The second time...well, that was a different story. It had been much slower, much more initmate than she had thought it to be possible. He had taken his time, exploring every inch of her skin, kissing her all over, making her feel dizzy, completely focused on her pleasure. Mycroft was a genius after all. It had been wonderful.

Clara supported herself on one arm, careful not to wake him up and let her eyes wander around the room. From the huge four-poster bed they were lying in she could see a leather armchair next to the door, a bookshelf, a dresser with two framed pictures on it. She raised her head curiously and took a closer look. One of the photographs showed his parents, standing side by side as a young couple. On the other one, a young and not too slim Mycroft had his arm on his even younger brother's shoulder who was dressed as a pirate with a large hat. Seeing Mycroft Holmes as a child made her smile and she looked down at him once more.

And here they were. Lying next to each other in the morning after....Sherlock had shot Magnussen. It was just coming back to her when the sound of his voice almost made her jump.

“You're staring at me“.

Clara jerked slightly. Even though he had just woken up, his voice was perfectly steady and as sharp as usual. He opened his eyes and looked at her expectantly. She couldn't help but smile. “Sorry“, she whispered and scooted closer to him, back into his arms. Her ear was resting upon his heart, its steady beat making her feel safe and sound. His fingers were slowly moving up and down her back, raising goose bumps. Funny thing, she thought. She had just woken up and the lightest touch of his was giving her chills all over again. Well, he was good with his fingers, he had proven that much last night. Supressing a moan at the memory, she turned her head and kissed him deeply. He responded just as enthusiastically.

She had no idea what time it was but Clara knew that they wouldn't get to spend all day in bed together. She didn't even know if that was what he wanted. Swallowing back her insecurity she decided to talk about it in an easy way as she broke the kiss.

“What took you so long?“, she asked, her fingers ghosting over his chest. She heard him supressing a sigh and he was silent for a few seconds. Was he regretting it?

“It was dangerous for you in my company“, he murmered absently and she could literally feel the heaviness inside of him. His words made her frown. What was he talking about? As if reading her mind Mycroft added: “Magnussen“.

Clara lifted her head and pulled back to look at him, a horrible thought crossing her mind. He turned his head towards her and looked as if he'd just told her some classified information. And maybe he had. Her eyes went wide.

“Me?“, she asked louder than she had intended to. “Magnussen threatened you...through me?“.

His silence was much of a confession and she was shocked. Of course, now it all made sense! That was why Mycroft had kept pulling away from her even though she could tell that he didn't really want to. Her abduction a few months ago! It had not been a threat to Sherlock but to Mycroft! If only she had known! She closed her eyes, trying to process the information she had just received. And she didn't understand.

“But...John and Mary, he...he said he was owning you because of Sherlock“. That bastard! Alone the thought of his arrogant features made her clench her fist.

“ _The only person Mycroft Holmes cares about is his drug-addict little brother“._

“ _I own John Watson's wife, I own Mycroft“._

Mycroft sat up and turned his back towards her in an exclusive motion. Clara froze and immediately wished that she had just kept her mouth shut.

“He wanted Sherlock to stay out of his business“, he explained, still facing away from her.

“The day he threatened John was a warning. After he kidnapped you...“, he paused. “I did what I had to do“.

A sudden wave of affection for him came over her and she scooted closer once more, putting her arms around his shoulders.

“I'm sorry“, she whispered into the side of his neck and she could feel his posture soften.

“I'm so so sorry. If only I'd known...“.

“It does not matter“, he answered dryly but leant into her. “He's dead.“

She closed her eyes and for a few blissful moments they were just breathing together, relishing each other's warmth, calming down a little bit. Eventually, she asked:

“What are we going to do?“ He sighed.

“I have no idea“. She hugged him a little tighter and slowly pulled him back down onto the bed. Mycroft did not resist.

 

After his shower, he went down the stairs, collecting their clothing which they had stripped off of each other in a rush of passion last night. He registered the coiling dust in the sunlight which was breaking through the high windows and reminded himself to call Misses Newman, his housekeeper in the new year. He had sent her on holiday with her family and the old lady would appreciate it. She was a few years younger than his mother.

He was fully dressed once again himself. It was past nine already and he had to arrange another meeting, concerning his brother's deed. There had already been one last night, online and he had ended it for only five minutes before...He shook his head. - _Focus!_

It would be difficult to get the younger Holmes out of this one but definitely not impossible.

The politician returned to his bedroom and drew back the curtains. He arranged the covers of his bed and folded Clara's clothes. As his fingers ran through the fabric of her blouse he dimly recalled stripping it off her body last night, exposing her soft skin. In a sheer moment of basest, stupid sentimentalitly he brought it to his nose, inhaling her scent. He felt dazed at once and blinked a few times before he folded it as well and put it on the bed.

Memories. They were clouding his mind. Memories of their first night together. A smile ghosted across his features. He had enjoyed letting himself go, to finally be able to claim her as his after denying it himself for so long. It had been wonderful. Glorious. So many nights he had dreamt about it, kissing her, caressing her soft skin, holding her petite form in his arms, feeling her heartbeat against his, having her sweet breath dissolve on his skin, making her gasp into his ear.

He stepped to the window, looking outside. The snow was gone, the streets were empty and the golden light of the sun warmed his face. The shower had been turned off a few minutes ago and now he could hear the hairdrier. He also kept a new separate toothbrush in his cupboard just in case his electric one should not be working, which she could use. Mycroft's smile widened. Not that he had expected this much but somehow it made him feel warm. A woman using his bathroom in the morning after; that was a first. Actually he had never had sex in his own bed, he realised. He'd always made sure that it would be at their places, so he could silently disappear a few hours later. Those encounters in the past (the last one had been four years, seven months and twelve days ago) had been about nothing else but physical pleasure with women and sometimes men he had not even necessarily liked. There were no emotions and no repetitions.

But the last night had been different. It had been more than one simple act. It had not only served to sate a certain hunger he'd been holding for her for quite a while. Together they had reached something else, something that had led him to give up control for just a few minutes. It had felt a lot like free fall. It had felt right. Something was telling him that it should be this way, that Clara should be here with him. That this was the way it was supposed to be.

The door opened and she entered the bedroom, one of his white towels wrapped around her body. It was enough to cause a wildfire of desire to rise inside his chest. Instinctively he turned his eyes away before his face could betray him. Carefully she stepped closer until she was standing right in front of him. He still refused to look at her while he could feel his blood pumping strongly in his veins.

“Am I so horrible to look at?“, she asked ironically, searching his gaze. Mycroft snorted.

“Of course not, just...“, he answered, his tone a bit rougher than he'd intended.

“Hey“. Her fingers, still warm from the hot water closed around his chin and she gently turned his head to make him look at her.

“It's okay“, she smiled. Mycroft did his best to keep his gaze locked to her eyes. His mouth was suddenly dry. When she let the towel fall to the floor, he closed his eyes, trying not to get distracted. It was harder than he would have imagined.

“Mycroft“, she purred teasingly, her fingers playing with his tie. He shook his head almost numbly. This couldn't be true! When had a woman's naked body ever had such an alarming effect on him? He could feel his mind shutting down just like last night. And no matter how hard he tried to focus it didn't work. He smiled tightly.

“I really don't know what I might do if...“. His voice sounded strange to his own ears.

“Oh, I hope you will!“, she breathed and then she was kissing him and Mycroft found himself unable to resist. His arms came up around her back, one of his hands tangling itself in her hair as he pulled her against him. He could feel the soft outlines of her breasts through his clothes, her skin was soft beneath his fingers and fragrant with his own shower gel, he could taste his own toothpaste on her lips, her tongue. Something possessive shot through him as he lifted her up, her legs circling his waist. - _Mine._

He lost himself in the feeling of her lips against his and wished once again that he could stop time.

 

Naked or not she couldn't spend all day in his arms even though Mycroft liked the idea very much. He left for the kitchen to prepare breakfast while she was getting dressed. She joined him soon, hugging him from behind briefly before she stood next to him and asked if she could be of any assistance. A thought crossed his mind but he casted it off soon enough. What the hell was wrong with his brain this morning?

They had breakfast together. After a while he caught her twitching at her clothes uncomfortably and he could tell that she was nervous. - _Insecurity about what had happened between them, not sure where to put it_

“Is there something you would like to talk about?“, he asked and she looked at him, more than a bit horrified. Mycroft put the newspaper down and folded his hands, waiting. He could see her swallow. “Uhm, well...“, she began and her eyes were fixed on her hands in her lap. “Are we...I mean, what was that? I mean are we...together now or was it just, you know, like...a one-night stand?“.

 

 

He raised an enquiring eyebrow and she bit her tongue. Before he could answer, she cut in:

“Which would be fine, you know! I mean, I know that you don't do relationships or this..sort of thing which is not a bad thing, absolutely not. That's fine with me, I mean, I may have said something to you last night which I'm sure you heard even though it was in the middle of the act“, she stopped herself, realising how stupid she sounded. The corner of his mouth twichted slightly up in amusement. Who was she trying to fool here?

“I mean“, she tried again. “I'm saying that it would be okay if you don't want to...repeat this“. She laughed uneasily. “You know what I said there was merely in the heat of the...moment“.

Clara bit her lip and focused on her hands once more. She had told him that she loved him. And she had meant it with every cell of her body but she knew that Mycroft was considering himself not to be a sentimental man. What could he possibly be thinking right now?

“Listen“, he began and she saw her worst apprehensions confirmed.

“ _I enjoyed it, too but...“, “You're very lovely but...“_

“I am not very good at this topic so I shall keep my answer brief. I have no idea how this usually works but my feelings for you give me no doubt that I want you around as much as possible“.

Clara couldn't stop the smile that appeared on her face. This was Mycroft Holmes, saying that he loved her, or at least a close thing to it.

“So, to answer your question“, he added. “Yes. I suppose we're together now“. He smiled gently. Clara let her head drop, a warm feeling of happiness spreading inside her stomach.

“Okay“, she smiled at him, raising her chin. “So, you're my boyfriend now“.

She tried the word in relation to him. It sounded funny. Mycroft must have thought the same for he knitted his brows. Then he leant back in his chair, watching her over the kitchen table.

“To be honest, I would have expected you to be a bit more...excited“. He smiled a bit wider and she leant forward on her chair.

“Do I have to come over there?“, she asked teasingly and got up.

“I was hoping you would“, he purred and in the next moment she sat on his lap, kissing him again.

When she let them come up for air she leant her forehead against his and closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of his arms around her.

“So,“, she began, knowing that she was ruining the moment. But it was eating on her insides.

“What do we do? What do we do about Sherlock?“. Mycroft let out a soft sigh.

“I have made a few calls already but it's hard to say if these contacts will be of any help. I will have to call for an emergency meeting today.“

Clara swallowed hard. Even though this was probably the most beauiful morning in her life she couldn't shake the ugly feeling in her stomach that came to her on that subject. Her best friend had killed a man.

“Furthermore“, Mycroft murmured. “It is possible that there will be a trial about his deed, internly, of course.“

At that she pulled back to look at him. “A trial?“. He shrugged.

“A hearing at least“, he explained.

“Within these minutes there is a crisis management group organised, consisting of Lady Smallwood and a few other important colleagues. Magnussen was an influential man, disgusting but influential. His death will have consequences“.

Clara nodded, trying to imagine the world's most powerful men and women under Magnussen's compulsion. Then a thought crossed her mind.

“John and I“, she said. “We watched him doing it. We watched him shoot Magnussen.“ His eyes were scanning her face and she was sure that he'd already figured out her thought. He gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Don't worry“, he said calmly. “They're not going to summon you. I won't let them“.

“But what if they do?“, she asked, suddenly alarmed.

“What if they do? What do I say? Do I have to lie? Because if it's of any help for Sherlock I'll do it“. - “No“, he said almost sharply but his gaze softened immediately.

“You will not render yourself liable to prosecution because I let my little brother fool me.“ He dropped his head, looking at the table.

“This was my fault. I should have known“. Clara shook her head. It hurt her to see him that way. To see him blaming himself for his brother's mistakes.

“Sherlock drugged you“, she replied.

“He fooled all of us, you couldn't have known. There was nothing you could do“.

“You know I can do anything, you've seen it“, he answered seriously.

“Stop it“, she almost pleaded. “Just stop it“. Mycroft nodded.

“You're right. What's done is done. I need to focus on finding a way to keep him out of prison now. Sherlock wouldn't last two days in there“. He leant back and she could tell that he didn't want to send her away but it was a close thing to it.

“My driver will take you home, of course“, he finally said, not looking at her.

“Your driver works on Christmas morning?“, she asked a little bit amused. He knitted his brows. “Thomas works whenever I need him. That's what I pay him for.“ Clara chuckled.

“I could just take a cab, you know“, she suggested.

“Nonsense“, he disposed. “I have to make sure you get home safely“. His voice was so soft as she had never heard him speak before. It was new and a bit unexpected but she liked it very much. Mycroft Holmes showing his caring side. “And I have called him already“.

She smiled warmly at him and he pulled her in for another kiss while his left hand found her thigh. Clara shivered at the memory that came to her mind at his touch and suppressed a moan.

Had this man any idea of what he was doing to her? - Of course, he had. He was Mycroft Holmes, he knew everything, just everything. The noice of a car stopping in front of the house made her draw back briefly before she moved her lips close to his ear.

“I don't wanna move“, she whispered.

“And I don't want you to leave“, he confessed quietly.

Eventually she got off his lab with a sigh and went to the hall. Mycroft followed. She stopped at the front door and turned, taking him in once more. His skin wasn't as pale as it had been yesterday evening, his expression revealed contentment and he was dressed as usual in suit trousers, white shirt, blue tie and waistcoat. Only his jacket was missing. In fact, she liked it that way. Unsure what to do, she asked: “When will I see you again?“

He smiled and let his head drop as he stepped closer to her, placing his hands around her waist. “Tonight if you want to“, he recommended and gave her a knowing look.

“You thought I wouldn't make any time until next month, didn't you?“ Clara blinked.

“No, I wasn't-“, his expression stopped her. He knew when she attempted to lie.

“Tonight would be great“, she smiled.

“Why don't you come over to my place? I could cook something nice and we could watch a film“. But suddenly she doubted that he did these sort of things, so she added: “Or something like that“.

He pulled her close and kissed her once more, silencing her doubtful thoughts.

“This sounds amazing. I will be there at nine if you don't mind“.

“Okay“, she breathed and kissed him for one last time before she stepped back towards the door. “Until tonight, then“.

“I will miss you“. His words made her smile and she almost considered staying for another 10 minutes before she pulled herself together and stepped outside where the black Jaguar was waiting for her.

Thomas was a blonde man in his early forties, in a smoking and a black tie.

“Good morning, Miss Oswald“, he greeted her politely and opened the back door for her.

“Good morning and happy christmas“.

Clara got inside and looked back once more, finding the door of his house closed already.

Scolding herself she shook her head. Had she really expected him to wait at the door until the car had carried her away? She brought a hand to her head, knowing that she was much more in love than she'd thought at first.

 

 


End file.
